


Full Circle

by Sarek and Amanda Archive Maintainer (Selek)



Series: Elise Deal's Series [3]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Elise Deal, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 06:04:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selek/pseuds/Sarek%20and%20Amanda%20Archive%20Maintainer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The third story in her series (first is A Family Emergency, and the second is The Celebration of Surak) explaining why our Spock goes from the personable fellow in ST:TOS to the almost-computer in ST:TMP.</p><p>Written by Elise Deal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Full Circle

This is the third in a series of stories. Please read A Family Emergency and The Celebration of Surak first.

Full Circle

 

Chapter 1

 

Sarek of Vulcan shivered involuntarily. The embassy here on Earth was always too cool for him. The building itself dated from the late twentieth century, and although it had been upgraded with many modern features, it was essentially an old building. Even on the hottest of days, like today, it still seemed chilly.

To Sarek, this whole season they called summer was damp and cool, so unlike the dry, warm comfort of his home world. But this minor personal discomfort was of no consequence when measured against the fact that here on Earth, he was able to spend time with his only grandchild.

Spock, now a Captain in Starfleet, taught cadets at the Academy here in San Francisco. His wife, Christine, was completing work on her medical degree at the Mercy General Hospital in conjunction with the University. Sarek had made sure he was posted at the embassy here as well; it was not only convenient but logical that he and Amanda keep young Mandy while her parents attended their daily duties.

When Spock’s Time had come, he and Christine had not needed to worry that Mandy be entrusted to a stranger’s care. Just as on Vulcan, the child’s grandparents would be the ones to care for her while her parents were indisposed. It was the only logical arrangement, and one that Sarek and Amanda greatly enjoyed.

That child, he thought to himself with an inner smile, is a joy.

Inhaling sharply, Sarek abruptly dismissed such thoughts as illogical. Turning again to the work before him, he studied the facts about the recent disappearance of another Vulcan research vessel. The Preceptor made it two ships now that had disappeared near the Romulan Neutral Zone. Briefly he wondered if any private or merchant vessels had also disappeared in that area, and if so, how many were strictly Vulcan? How many of other species? This needed further investigation.

Such thoughts would have to be set aside until later because his ears had detected sounds of an imminent attack. Quickly, he placed the data solids safely in the top drawer of his desk, closing and locking it with no time to spare.

With an explosive roar, the door to his office was flung open so hard it slammed into the wall behind it and bounced back. A small, blonde juggernaut fairly flew across the room and leapt onto his lap. 

“Sa’me!” the child cried happily as she dug her feet into his thighs and hugged him fiercely around the neck.

Although a big girl of six and quite capable of correctly pronouncing the Vulcan terms for grandfather and grandmother - Sa’mekh’al and Ko’mekh-il - Mandy still called Sarek by her own diminutive of the word. Neither Sarek nor Amanda corrected her, much to Spock’s annoyance.

Sarek allowed himself a tiny, joyful smile into her unruly, blonde curls as he returned her greeting. “Granddaughter,” he replied when he had regained his control. His deep voice rumbled out of his chest. “And did you and Ko’mekh-il buy many things on your shopping trip today?”

Young Mandy rubbed her nose against his and climbed down. “Oh, we sure did, Sa’me!” she answered enthusiastically. “Me and grandmother bought lots and lots of ‘cellent stuff.”

“ ‘Grandmother and I’,” Amanda corrected gently as she entered Sarek’s office, her arms loaded with packages of every size and shape.

Quickly, Sarek rose from his chair and came around the desk in order to help her with her bundles. He settled most of the items on the floor while Amanda sank gratefully down into one of his office chairs.

Sarek cocked one eyebrow. “ ‘ ’cellent’?” he inquired of his wife.

Amanda laughed. “It’s youth slang for ‘excellent’,” she explained.

“One might have said so in the first place.”

“Sa’me,” the six-year-old spoke, “would you like to see what Ko’me and I bought?” She glanced quickly towards Amanda, earning a smile and a nod for her more proper sentence structure.

“Yes, child, I would,” Sarek answered solemnly.

Without the slightest hesitation, Mandy began rummaging around in the packages and bags. There was a brief pause before she turned around holding before her a one-piece, iridescent pink swimsuit covered with pink ruffles and matching earplugs.

Sarek nodded his approval. “A most practical swimsuit,” he commended her.

Exchanging mischievous grins with the elder Amanda, young Mandy whipped back around and held up another pair of earplugs. “And we bought these for you, Sa’me,” she informed him.

“Those are earplugs,” Sarek stated rather unnecessarily. He gave Amanda a distinctively mirthless look.

Amanda merely favored him with a brilliantly cheerful smile, while her young namesake explained. “They’re for swimming, Sa’me,” she told him brightly. “That way you can go swimming with me.” She held up her own new earplugs. “See, they match ‘cause our ears match.”

“How practical,” Sarek answered dryly through clenched teeth. 

This was Amanda’s doing, he was sure. Since they met, she had been urging him to learn to swim, and although he had mastered the movements and the mechanics of the act, he had never felt any measure of confidence. Water, particularly seawater, was a foreign element to Sarek; more, it was the antithesis of the sands of his home world. He didn’t actually fear the water, yet he found it...disturbing.

“You will go in swimming with me, won’t you, Sa’me?” Mandy asked. “At the Federation Day picnic? At the beach?” Her tiny nose was crinkled with concern, her big blue eyes so much like those of her grandmother.

Sarek could deny the child nothing, just as he could deny Amanda nothing. Reluctantly, he nodded. “I will swim with you, little one.”

“Goody!” she cried out. “And we can swim to the sand bar.”

“No!” both adults exclaimed in unison.

A frown creased her brow. For one so young, Mandy possessed a great stubborn streak just like her father and grandfather. “Why not? I know how to swim.”

It was Amanda who recovered first. Sarek, still appalled at the thought of his only grandchild floundering against huge waves of seawater, had momentarily lost his powerful voice.

“Yes, you know how to swim, and quite well, too,” Amanda responded in a calm voice, “in the embassy pool. The Pacific is very different. One day, though, you can swim to the sandbar,” she smiled, “just not this year.”

Her bottom lip went out, a sure sign a trouble. “But I wanted to practice my swim to the sandbar.”

“Practice swimming to the sandbar?” Sarek echoed her. “To what end do you wish to undertake such a practice? Perhaps there is a safer way to practice, a way to achieve the desired results without so much danger.”

Mandy brightened at this. “I wanted to swim to the sandbar and back for my kahs-wan,” she told him. Then, tucking her locks behind her elfin ears and assuming the proper position of child speaking to a respected elder, she launched into her explanation. “If we were on Vulcan, I could cross the desert like my fathers before me, but here on Earth, where seventy percent of the globe is water, it would make more sense to swim.”

Amanda nodded. “But you are more Human than Vulcan, Mandy, like me. You aren’t yet old enough for a kahs-wan of any sort, but when the time comes there are similar Human ceremonies and traditions to mark your passage into adulthood.”

Again, the lip shot out.

“I am too Vulcan, Ko’me, just like Father and Sa’me. And I am too old enough. Here on Earth, I am six years, three months, and seven days old Federation Standard Time. If we were on Vulcan, I would be exactly seven years old tomorrow.”

“You have calculated the mathematics well, Mandy,” Sarek interposed, “but the fact is that we are not on Vulcan.” He used his deepest diplomat’s voice; the tone should awe her into submission. “Although I must admire your desire to commit yourself to the Vulcan Way, you are, genetically speaking, more Human than Vulcan, and it is best that you wait some years more before making this irrevocable decision. We will not speak of this again until such time as you are old enough to make a decision like this.” 

Sarek stood, assisting his wife from her seat. “Come, child, it is time for evening meal. Put away your purchases. We will await you in the dining room.”

Thus dismissed, Mandy muttered something reasonably polite, gathered the shopping parcels and trudged from the room.

When she felt the child was out of earshot, Amanda turned to her husband. “Sarek, I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

Sarek frowned, tightening his lips. Ordinarily, he would have replied, Feelings are illogical, Amanda. But this time, he, too, had a ‘bad’ feeling.

 

Chapter 2

 

The beach was lovely and secluded. Selek was the young ambassador prior to Sarek’s re-posting on Earth, and, like most Vulcans, he was fascinated by Earth’s seas. He had managed to secure this tiny stretch of beach as an addition to the Vulcan embassy.

Now the beach was empty save for the small Vulcan family gathered around a large beach blanket. To the side stood a grill and a picnic table. A lovely Human woman, nearing her sixty-third year of life, expertly cooked a variety of vegetables from both Earth and Vulcan.

To her left at the picnic table sat an older Vulcan gentleman, huddled in a thick robe against the wind of this overcast day. Sarek of Vulcan, the great ambassador, watched his wife cook their noon meal as he listened to his son and granddaughter. He was most content this day.

“And do you know why we celebrate Federation Day?” Spock quizzed his daughter.

“Yes, Father,” Mandy replied. “Today is the day that marks the anniversary of the founding of the Federation. Beings all over the Federation celebrate this day every year. On Earth, the day is celebrated instead of the older holiday of July fourth.”

“Correct,” Spock answered. “You may play now.”

“May I go swimming?” she asked eagerly.

“Not today, child,” he replied evenly. “Clouds are blowing in. No doubt a storm is on the way.”

Her reply was polite if a bit sullen. “Yes, Father.” Soon she was engrossed in building castles of sand.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to take the picnic indoors,” Amanda added. She cast a glance at the sky. “It does look like rain.” Expertly, she flipped the vegetables on the grill. “Spock, do you think Christine will make it for lunch?”

Spock turned back to answer his mother. “I do not think that she will be able to lunch with us. This past week Christine missed some very important aspects of her residency. Thanks to you, Father,” he inclined his head towards Sarek, “the hospital and her supervising physician have agreed to allow her to make them up. She should, however, be here sometime after the noon hour.”

Sarek nodded, his chin touching the top of his robe. “You owe me no thanks, my son.” Quickly so as to change the potentially embarrassing subject, he turned his attention to his wife. “I believe you are burning, my wife.”

“No, no, Sarek, the veggies are just fine,” she told him. “They ought to be ready soon, though.”

Allowing himself the slimmest of smiles, Sarek explained, “Not the food, Amanda. Your skin is burning.” He stood and reached for her arm. 

“Oh my stars, who’d have ever thought you could get sunburned on an overcast day,” she exclaimed mildly. “I slathered Mandy with sunscreen and forgot to cover myself as well.”

“Spock,” Sarek called, “please supervise the grill while I assist your mother.” 

Dutifully, Spock rose from the blanket and took the tongs from his mother as he watched his parents. Sarek, with an ease born from years of practice, smoothed the pinkish cream on every inch of Amanda’s exposed skin. His father leaned closer to his mother’s ear and spoke softly. Spock could not hear Sarek’s words; the wind had blown the sound away. In any event he would not have willingly eavesdropped. Amanda blushed slightly and giggled, then she playfully pushed at his arm.

Strangely, Spock felt no embarrassment. Since his bonding with Christine, he now understood many things that previously had only confused him. Pretending an intent interest in the cooking vegetables, he looked out from under his lashes and took careful note of his father’s technique in smearing the cream. When Christine arrived, he would borrow some of his mother’s sun cream and likewise cover Christine’s skin. It was his duty to protect her, especially now. A tiny smile peaked around the corners of his usually stern mouth. 

Sarek, intent upon his wife’s skin, did not notice, but Amanda did. “You’re burning our dinner, Spock,” she said softly.

Jarred from his lapse in concentration, Spock cleared his throat and began removing the vegetables from the grill. He placed them on various platters and set the platters onto the nearby picnic table.

“I was thinking of Christine,” he admitted carefully. Then lowering his voice, he added, “You are to become grandparents again.”

“Oh, Spock, that’s wonderful,” Amanda cried, a radiant smile on her lips.

Sarek nodded his head in agreement. “May I offer my congratulations, my son?”

Spock inclined his head in a slight bow. “Your family grows, and the generations spread out to your honor.” The formal Vulcan words came easily to Spock’s tongue. He had practiced them for two days now.

“Speaking of grandchildren,” Amanda asked as she looked around the cozy picnic area, “where is Mandy?”

Spock turned quickly, a nagging thought pulled at his subconscious. Something was wrong, terribly, terribly wrong. “She was here a moment ago, creating constructions from sand.” He called loudly, “Mandy, it is time to eat. Return at once.” The nagging feeling grew. Spock knew, with a depth he could never explain, that something was wrong.

Sarek willed his eyes to scan the waves. His thoughts had warped back to yesterday’s conversation with the child, when she had insisted on swimming alone to the sandbar in an Earthly version of the kahs-wan. Although he could never admit to it, waves of fear swept over him just as the waves swept over the beach. A pit of hollow fear struck at him as he noted a slight movement of iridescent pink making a painfully slow effort towards the sandbar. “There!” he shouted, his voice raspy with fear.

Amanda and Spock swung around to see pink ruffles floating in the high waves.

“Heaven help us,” Amanda muttered as she ran quickly towards the waves. The sand itself seemed to rise up and slow her steps, and she felt as if all were closing down to a pinpoint of slow motion. But still she ran. 

The water was cold as she dove into it, a momentary shock against her burned body, but Amanda raced on, pulling and straining against the outgoing tide. She had always been a strong swimmer, but she was older now and frightened.

Many years ago, Amanda had taught Spock to swim when they had visited her relatives on Earth. He had learned fast and was very capable of saving himself, but he would never be able to rescue another. Still, he was there with her in the cold water, only a split second behind her. She sensed his presence rather than saw him because she was focused on the bits of pink ruffles bobbing now, sinking now, ahead on the tall waves.

Spock pulled hard against the cold seawater, ignoring the iciness of it sluicing over his body. The nagging thought uncoiled in his mind, attempting to force his concentration away from Mandy. Determined, he locked his thoughts onto saving his child, locked them as coldly as the seawater surrounding him. Logic. Cold logic was what he needed now. To give in to the emotions roiling inside would only make the situation worse. Slowly he allowed his thoughts to harden, and he cast his emotions into the cold depths of the ocean water. Nothing could reach him now.

Much better. Now he could think logically. He knew his mother was the better swimmer. She would reach Mandy first. But would she have the energy to return both herself and the child to the shore? He did not believe so. It would take every ounce of his Vulcan strength to help them both back to shore. Consciously, he stopped his swimming strokes and rested, treading water, waiting for his mother to bring the child to him.

For a split second, Sarek was frozen with fear. He knew he could not help the child, Amanda, or Spock. Was he to stand here and watch as the cold Pacific swallowed his family? His logic shook and threatened to crack as that thought played across this mind. 

A metallic beeping noise drew him from his numbing terror. Spock’s personal communicator lay on the sand at his feet. He remembered Spock tossing it at him, ordering him to call for help. That thought broke through, and Sarek was at last able to move. 

Quickly, he snatched up the communicator, activating it.

“Captain Spock?” An unfamiliar, professional voice spoke when he activated it. “There is an emergency at Mercy General Hospital. You are needed here.”

“Mercy General?” Sarek repeated aloud. “Yes, there has been an emergency,” Sarek replied. His voice was strong, and he put all of his forcefulness, all of his many years of debating into it. “This is Ambassador Sarek of Vulcan. We have need of a rescue team. This is an emergency situation. A child is drowning. Transport a rescue team to these coordinates at the Vulcan embassy immediately. There is no time to waste.” He cut the connection, knowing she would obey.

Amanda had now reached Mandy. The child had gone under for the third time. Taking a deep, fearful breath, Amanda dove deeply and pulled her back to the surface. She had the child now, cradled in a rescue tow behind her. Turning in the water, her energy nearly depleted, she looked back at the shore. So far away and she was so tired!

Please, Lord, let her be all right. Amanda’s thoughts were a continuous mantra in her head as she doggedly pulled them both toward the shore.

Halfway back, Amanda met Spock. He switched the child to his arms and held his mother briefly. “I will take her, Mother,” he yelled over the waves. “Can you make it back to shore?”

Amanda nodded. She could make it. She would make it.

From the sand, Sarek watched his family. Slowly they came closer to the shore. But it was taking so long, so long!

Behind him, a transporter sparkled. Three members of Mercy General’s drowning rescue team materialized. The emergency medical technicians raced across the sands toward the surf line as Spock, carrying the limp child, stood and trudged up the sand.

Two of the rescue squad met Spock and took the child from him, lying her on the sand. In unison, they bent over her and quickly began to examine her. Soon they were treating her. Spock knelt beside the child, calling her name, willing her to open her eyes and answer. 

The third member of the team ran past and dove into the water. With strong, sure strokes, he quickly reached Amanda and helped the older woman back to shore. 

Sarek was there as they emerged, dripping wet and cold, from the ocean in the whipping wind. Amanda collapsed into his arms, and Sarek gently lowered her to the sand. Her rescuer insisted that she be examined, and Sarek agreed, but he knew she was well. She was exhausted, cold, and hungry, and anxious about the child, but she was undamaged. Their bonding told him that. Inhaling deeply, Sarek willed himself to be calm and moved briskly to his son’s side. 

Spock continued to call Mandy’s name as the technicians worked on her. He seemed oblivious to all else.

Alone, Sarek watched the unreal scene unfold before him. Then he saw one of the medical technicians catch the eye of the young man who had rescued Amanda. With a soft, negative shake of his head, the young man stepped backward from the scene and spoke in a low tone into a communicator.

Sarek did not hear the words, but he knew what the content of them was. Grief threatened to overwhelm him, but he held it at bay. His son and wife would need him to be strong. Tenderly, he reached down and grasped Spock by the shoulder. “Spock,” he whispered, “no more, my son.” 

Slowly, the medical team rose and quietly backed away from the terrible scene. Mandy lay too still on the sand. The whipping wind of the coming storm ruffled her curls and the pink ruffles of her new swimsuit. Nothing else moved.

Spock, intent upon his child, ignored Sarek and the technicians. They were wrong. Very, very wrong. Mandy will awaken. She only needs a little more time. Torn between anger and despair, Spock purposefully placed his long fingers against the child’s still head. His intention was to establish a meld with her, to awaken her.

“No!” Sarek thundered. He reached down and tore Spock’s hands away, wrenching his son up and away from the tiny still form. “I will not risk losing you, too!” He forced the words into Spock’s face, into his mind.

Spock’s stricken face bled with unspoken emotion. His eyes wildly searched the sky.

“I grieve with thee,” Sarek offered the words and his hand for a healing meld.

But Spock stepped back, stumbling and nearly falling into the surf. “No!” he yelled. “I will master my emotions alone.” Turning his back to all, Spock closed his eyes and willed his heart to become stone.

Dropping his hand, Sarek turned instead to his wife. She was kneeling at Mandy’s side now, gently smoothing back the unruly blonde locks. “Amanda?” he whispered. 

Raising her red-rimmed eyes to his, Amanda wept unashamedly. She wept for all of them, for her Vulcans who were unable to do so for themselves. Overhead, thunder shattered the clouds, and the rain poured down on them all.

 

Chapter 3

 

“Christine?” Amanda spoke quietly as she pushed open the apartment’s door. She peeked inside at the sterile flat. There was nothing that might help identify the owner, nothing of her personality about the place. If she had not recognized Christine’s suitcase near the door, she would have thought this was the wrong address.

There was still no answer so Amanda dared to step inside, calling more loudly this time. “Christine? It’s Amanda.”

Slowly, Christine walked from out of the bedroom hugging her arms about herself. Her face was very pale, and her red-rimmed eyes had dark smudges beneath them. She looked like her own ghost.

Amanda didn’t waste time with more words. Briskly, she walked across to the younger woman and clasped her in a fierce hug. 

Christine softened and allowed herself to be embraced until she broke down and wept like a child.

Guiding them both to the stiff, impersonal sofa, Amanda helped Christine to sit. When the younger woman had control of herself again, Amanda spoke. “I grieve with thee,” she softly murmured the ancient words.

Christine nodded. “If there is anyone in this whole universe who does understand, it would be you.” She grasped Amanda’s hands and squeezed them. “It was bad enough losing Mandy,” her voice choked, and she couldn’t seem to continue.

Nodding in return, Amanda spoke aloud what Christine couldn’t say. “But having a miscarriage at the same time is beyond bearing.” 

Christine let go of Amanda’s hands and covered her eyes as she cried. She didn’t think there were any tears left in her, but there were.

Amanda stroked Christine’s hair. Softly, when she thought her words could be heard, she said, “Heaven knows, I know what you’re going through.” She nodded at Christine’s tear stained face. There were tears in her own eyes, but she had learned long ago to hold them back. “I lost six children over the years,” she confided. “And I felt each one as keenly as the first. After the first, I didn’t think Sarek understood. I blamed him for being a cold Vulcan, and I nearly left him. Then I realized that he was just being a man, and he was acting coldly to cover his worry over losing me. Spock is the same…”

“Spock!” Christine interrupted her. “He didn’t even come to see me in the hospital. I know he was mourning Mandy, but he could have at least come to see me.” The words were bitter and angry.

“Oh, I agree with you,” Amanda replied vigorously. “Don’t you think for one minute I don’t. Spock should have been there. He should be here now.” Amanda shook her head in confusion. “I don’t know why he’s not.”

“I told him to go away,” Christine told her. “I was so angry, and still am, that I told him I wanted a divorce.” She turned pleading eyes to the older woman. “Oh, Amanda, I just can’t go through that again. Losing a child. I don’t know how you stood it. And then when Spock didn’t come to see me, when I got home and found him here reading, I don’t know. I just lost it and told him to leave, to go away. He didn’t seem to even care. He just stood up calmly, packed a few clothes, and left.” She was babbling now.

Infinite sadness swam in Amanda’s eyes, and her mouth trembled. “Christine, I know how you felt. I do. But you have to talk to Spock about this. He’s hurting, too, but he’s just like his father and too stubborn to admit to it.” She held the other woman’s face and stared into her eyes. “When Mandy died, something in Spock broke, and you’re the only one who can fix it.”

Christine’s eyes took on a hard glint. “I’m sorry, Amanda,” she muttered. “I’m just not ready.”

Gently, Amanda released Christine’s face. “I’m sorry, too,” she replied. Her blue eyes were misty, and her throat was thick. “We’re leaving for Vulcan this afternoon.” She glanced at her chronometer. “Right now, actually. I suppose I’m holding everyone up.” She stood and looked down at the younger woman. “Won’t you please come home, Christine? You can stay with Sarek and me until you and Spock can work something out.”

But the younger woman shook her head. “I can’t do that,” Christine told her firmly. “Not now, anyway.”

Wringing her hands, Amanda stepped back towards the open apartment door. “Whenever you’re ready, then,” she whispered before she left.

 

Chapter 4

 

They were en-route back to Vulcan. The ship had departed less than two hours ago and would soon be engaging the warp drive. Sarek had searched the Excelsior twice looking for Spock. His son had made a point of avoiding everyone ever since the Accident. That is how he and Amanda thought of it: capital “A” for accident.

Amanda had boarded the ship late, almost missing the departure, but Sarek had flexed his diplomatic powers and ordered the ship to wait. Her tardiness was due to the fact that she was still pleading with Christine to come with them. To come home. But Christine had refused just as she had refused to speak with Spock. 

As soon as she boarded, Amanda had sent Sarek scurrying to find Spock. “Try to talk some sense into him,” was how she put it. Now Sarek was on his third round about the ship.

Finally in a dark corner of Observation Deck Number Two, amidst the unfiltered starlight, Sarek found him. Sharp starlight cast a weak light upon the two Vulcans as they sat side-by-side in the near darkness, stiff and silent.

Sarek spoke cautiously. “Your mother is worried about you.”

“Worry is illogical” was the quiet reply.

Sarek waited a moment then tried another tack. “Why are you and Christine divorcing?” he asked softly. “The two of you should come together and share your grief.” Sarek turned slightly to face Spock’s profile. “The loss of two children at the same time is sufficient cause for tears, my son,” he continued gently. “And the stress of a divorce added to your current grief is too much for even a Vulcan to bear. I know it is not proper to offer advice unbidden…”

“You are right, Father,” Spock interrupted. His voice was cold and flat. “Your advice is unbidden. Unbidden and unwanted.”

Quietly, Sarek clasped his hands in his lap. The anger and hurt he felt could not touch that felt by his son. “Spock, there is no shame in feeling hurt, anger, or fear at such a time. You have lost so much in so short a time. You must first wrestle with your feelings before you can master them and move forward with your life. We Vulcans do have emotions, and they must not be denied.” 

There was no response from Spock. His eyes, dark and cold, mirrored the space beyond the window. Except out there, at least the starlight shone brightly in the dark. Spock’s eyes were flat and empty.

Lowering his voice, Sarek tried again. “You are not the first man to have lost a child,” he whispered. 

Slowly, Spock turned to face his father, and what Sarek saw in his son’s eyes made him flinch. When Spock spoke, his words were as if he hadn’t even heard Sarek. “When I return to Vulcan I will go to Gol. There I will embrace the teachings of the Kolinahr.”

Sarek opened his mouth to object. He did not believe that any Vulcan should seek to suppress, or rid himself totally of all emotions. Emotions were an essential part of the Vulcan soul, albeit a violent part. Emotions were to be mastered not eradicated, and such attempts to do so were illogical. But the words died hard in his throat when he stared deeply into his son’s face. He had seen such a look before on the visage of his first wife, T’Rea. She, who had left their marriage bed in order to pursue the total elimination of all emotion, had looked at him with just such icy eyes.

In mid-thought, with his mouth still open and ready to protest, Sarek changed his words. “Perhaps you are correct, my son,” he muttered. 

Suddenly, he felt far older than his one hundred nine point two Standard years. All that was left to him was Amanda, his wife, and she refused to ever return to the world of her birth. Slowly, he rose from the bench to leave. Stopping at the doorway, he turned back one last time to his son, but Spock sat stiffly and stared out at the nothingness.

His shoulders sagging, Sarek of Vulcan left.

 

The End


End file.
